


Always the End

by undernight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Father/Son Incest, Hurt Stiles, Incest, Jealous Stiles, M/M, Mentions of suicide attempt, One-Sided Relationship, Stilincest, stilinskicest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2352860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernight/pseuds/undernight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having feelings for his own father was a curse. Stiles knew how to avoid it well, but human subconscious never once ceases to hope thus, in the end, worse of the worst is bound to happen.  // One-shot Angst, heed the tags please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always the End

Stiles wasn't sure how everything came to this. How anything could end up like this. Something inside his ribcage was aching, spinning and thumping, all in all making him aware of the wrong feeling he had imprisoned a long time ago letting gradually loose. He hadn't even thought much about it, he knew it was not meant to be and Stiles was a guy of steel will when it came to his aims. He had never slipped his intentions nor did he let something simply go without a reason. But here he was standing, desperately clutching at his t-shirt on his chest to keep his sickeningly insufficient breathing under control. It wasn't fair. What he was seeing right now wasn't the reason why he hid himself inside the closet and fucked up his life; no matter which point you viewed it from, his dad wasn't being fair.

The realisation had hit Stiles shortly after he caught glimpses of the signs. They started with little slips of unformed words from his father's mouth, like stuttering while talking with someone or giving short answers to questions that demanded longer. He began to seem more and more distracted around daily errands, occasionally standing still in the middle of something with the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips, and the unmistakable adoration glistening his already light-colored eyes under a daze. He was looking younger and considerably more joyful, which made Stiles relatively happy. But he knew, just knew those little cues were not supposed to be there. Not in the cruel little world he had tried so hard to maintain _for_ his father. Something was starting to change in his father's life and Stiles wasn't ready to face with whatever was beyond that door of alteration. Deep inside the dark sides of his mind, he knew if he opened that door; if he named whatever was behind it, he was going to lose his father. Not that he owned him right now, possibly too late and too far to do so anyway, but he was sure to lose sight of his presence a lot more than he had already. All those years he had kept himself from naming the greatest of the feelings he had, and right now, before they even got out into the open, the object of his life was slipping painfully away from his reach.

He took a shaking step back and started to count to ten inside his head. His father was standing mere metres in front of him, yet to be aware of his presence, and chatting, no no, _flirting_ , with a blonde woman in her early 40's. He could hear the words through the foggy state of his brain, the seductive looks of his father which he hadn't seen even once in his entire life, the voice of his tone low and masculine as he was telling her how beautiful her hair looked tonight. Stiles wanted to puke. Her hair wasn't even special, just a normal blonde hair. His dad had seen countless of blondes in his entire life, most of them prettier than the one here. So what was the point? What made her irresistibly special? What made her more special than him, than the _years_ they had spent together, that his father had noticed and fallen into that hard instead of his son? Before he could even stop himself, he retched violently which sounded too much in the middle of the night, and it of course caught the attention of both his dad and his guest. They looked at him with shocked eyes, like they didn't fucking know him, like they couldn't fucking think he could show up in his own house anytime, and a sudden shatter of a glass pulled him out of his trance. His dad had dropped the glass filled with what looked like red wine. It hit the ground with the loudest sound of his life, it awoke him from another limited possibility he had wished to explain the situation as a dream, it made the last strains of his self-control dissipate into the high tension of the room. The pieces of broken glass scattered around the floor angrily, too intense that they even sounded furious, and Stiles could relate to them. He could relate to the wine staining the ground now, it looked so much like the blood he was going to spill on the floor just a quarter of an hour later. It eased him in a strong and enveloping feeling before he started dashing upstairs towards the safety of his room, his ears deaf to the shout of his name spilling helplessly from his father's mouth. He could relate to him too, but he didn't.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading.. who else felt like cheated? because Stiles obviously did. I know this piece is a sin in itself, but Stilincest started to creep its way inside me and I think we need more non-sexual and angsty stories of these two. maybe I could write a prequel and a sequel to this? if you want, let me know and I will try. and if there are any sticking mistakes that made you cringe while reading, please tell me. I need to improve.
> 
> (edit [October 7th 2016]: fixed some mistakes. sounds a tad bit better now in my opinion. )


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